Hiii!So, obligatory advertising for the OniOnna blog: links can be found on my front page, those should work for you but if they don't please let me know!

Funfact: Kamishimo : type of samurai clothing that gained popularity in the 17th century, more info on the blog!

Funfact: There's normally a HUGE festival after the rice harvest, but I'm rationalizing that they don't go to the festival because (1) they live far out of town and (2) Kakashi probably doesn't want Sakura to be unnecessarily traumatized by the people in Fujimi. Basically the festival is where you eat fresh rice, make and eat fresh mochi, and drink a whole ton of sake—to celebrate that you have rice. So yeah, Asuma and Kakashi have their own party at home.

Funfact: Remember that chapter long, long ago where Sakura worried that Kakashi would have a mistress and make her (Sakura) raise his kids with the woman? Yeah, that didn't happen in this guy's situation. Won't spoil it at the moment! But yeah—that was an actual thing that happened sometimes. It was also kind of okay to adopt your illegitimate kids, because people shrugged their shoulders like "An heir's an heir."

Funfact: Shunga were those erotic pictures and stories that I've been talking about. You can think of them as mini-manga but they were usually a mix of pictures and written story, as "manga" at the time was just a book of drawings with either no linear story or no story at all. They were also usually twelve pages long, but Kakashi's book is actually 144 pages long because it is 12 separate stories…you get it.

Funfact: Samurai carried around shunga a lot, and most people in larger cities had copies of their own, even housewives. Sakura comes from a small mountain village though, and was rather sheltered. So yeah.

Funfact: A tansu is a storage chest/box/dresser where you'd keep your clothes and stuff.

Funotherstuff: And the dang tree! We've made it to the tree from chapter two! There is still a lot of story left to tell, however.

Funteaser: I wonder if anyone can figure out who Iruka is married to?

Enjoy!

Kakashi and Asuma had sequestered themselves on the porch with sake from Asuma's uncle—a gift he gave all of his relatives, and curiously enough Kakashi. They were all bone-tired after finishing the last of the harvesting earlier in the day, but the two of men seemed to need some time alone to unwind from the stress. Sakura didn't exactly understand, but Kurenai had advised her to just let them be. Instead, she and Tenzou told her about how the next few days would go—after the rice had dried.

They'd fallen into a comfortable silence when Asuma's voice called for Kurenai. Sakura listened intently for her own name for a moment, hoping that Kakashi didn't need her as well. With Kurenai's departure, Sakura was alone with Tenzou for the first time in days—she could finally question him in relative peace.

She studied him, trying one last time to figure out who he was just by his appearance. He was about ten years older than her, a little younger than Kakashi. In moments where it was just the three of them, his posture was as straight and formal as Kakashi's was sometimes—those times being when Kakashi entertained guests, because otherwise he was relaxed as Tenzou rarely was. But that was the end of what she really knew about the family servant. He or Kakashi both ensured that they only spoke of light things concerning the past when she was present, and he exchanged pleasantries and even jokes with her sometimes. But they weren't close, and she couldn't help but feel that that was on purpose. She wasn't supposed to ask, but she did. It was rude, but that hardly stopped her.

"Tenzou, who are you? Really?"

The look on his face was grave in the firelight, the muscles taut with surprise at her low-blow of a question. He couldn't get out of this without seriously offending the lady of the house—and Sakura knew Tenzou well enough that he would do a lot, but seriously offending her was never something he sought. But he couldn't escape her question. Kurenai would have deflected Sakura's question, were she present—and Kakashi and Asuma were already in their cups, distracted by their small celebration. He'd answer her, finally.

"Sakura…"

"Tenzou."

They stared at one another for a long moment, and Sakura was reminded of that scene a year ago when Tenzou had refused to speak to her at all. Neither of them had won that stand-off because of Kakashi and his giggles, but Sakura was certain she would win this one—by any means necessary.

"It won't be onions in your tea, nor will it be as harsh as having you sleep out in the fields—but I will think of something to do that will force you to tell me eventually. We can avoid all of that, if you would just tell me. Tell me what is it that no one talks about, what is in your past that hangs so dark about your head, Tenzou?"

He turned his head a little away from her, shamed. Sakura felt something twist in her middle—it was that terrible feeling she got whenever someone brought up her pink hair or her family's occupation, as though all of the judgment in the world was focused on her in that moment for something she could hardly help. She was making Tenzou feel that way, and it hurt, but she had to know.

"Your heart is in the right place, Sakura. Kakashi tries to bear so much more on his shoulders than he should—It is usually best not to question his motives, or go behind his back, but I'll tell you this. He shouldn't have had us keep it from you for so long, but I asked him that we leave this past behind us once you were here—I didn't know exactly how he'd go about doing that, but it's how he wanted it. Don't let on that I've told you this, understood?" Tenzou leaned to the side slightly and rearranged his legs. His eyes were flat as he glanced at her briefly before shifting a little more until he was comfortable.

"My mother was a high-born lady, a princess." He looked directly at Sakura for a moment then, daring her to contradict him or laugh. She stayed silent, knowing that she only probably had until Kurenai returned from whatever Asuma had needed her for. Her shock could wait for later, when she had some time to herself.

"My father is a lord, from Kyoto," he paused for a long time, hanging his head as he continued—and Sakura felt that knife of embarrassment twist a little further in her, for Tenzou's sake.

"They were never married, and my father has never acknowledged me as his heir let alone his son. My mother passed away when I was a few months old, and until I was five, I was raised in secret by one of my mother's servants. It was then that my father decided I ought to be kept close to him. When I was eleven he sent me to Sarutobi-sama as a servant, as punishment for my 'insolent' behavior around his household." Tenzou's voice was bitter and tightly controlled as he spoke.

"Insolent?" Sakura's voice was tiny in the darkened room, even as Asuma's laughter raucously erupted from the porch, Kurenai's softer laughter following, and Kakashi's voice rose a little to chastise his friends.

Tenzou also laughed. But it was only humorless and self-mocking.

"I asked him why I was not sent to train as a samurai—I am his only son, after all, despite being his bastard. I was only with Sarutobi-sama for a year before he sent me to serve Sakumo and Kakashi. Sarutobi-sama wanted me to be free—and I couldn't be as free as he wanted me to be while living on a daimyo's estate," his smile turned wistful, content almost.

"However, I can be free here. Sakumo taught me the way of the samurai, he believed that I would eventually rise to claim the place where my parentage should have put me—he called me 'the little prince,' and when it was just us here he treated me like his son, and Kakashi treats me like his brother as well—you've of course noticed that I'm the much abused younger brother." His wry smile drew a timid one out of her, as he let her know that he didn't hate her because of her curiosity.

Sakura shivered at the thought of one's father sending one away to be a servant—there were even fewer obligations owed to servants than to wives, which if serving the wrong family could be terrifying. Tenzou it seemed had been lucky, very lucky, to have been placed where he was. Looking at him in the darkened room, lit only by the fire and a single lamp, Sakura felt that he knew just how lucky he had been.

"How many people know about who your father is?"—her curse of curiosity was because she had escaped having in-laws, she was sure of it now. Tenzou, surprisingly, relaxed a little, a smile curving barely into his regularly stoic face.

"Oh, most people in the town, I think, due to Sarutobi-sama's estate servants, although very few people know that Sakumo taught me how to conduct myself like a samurai as well as all of the fighting skills I would need as one. But Fujimi…unlike you and Kakashi, I can't stand the whispers that follow me when I'm there—it's unbearable." Sakura had her own wry smile at that.

"I can't stand them either, it's why I've only been there once since I came here. I understand your point completely, Tenzou. Why were you placed with Sarutobi-sama, Tenzou, I thou—"

The slide of a shoji made both of them twitch—Kurenai was coming back inside. Her cheeks were flushed and she ducked her head a little in embarrassment as she gracefully sat down, as though Sakura and Tenzou had heard whatever it was that Asuma had said. At least, Sakura hoped it was something Asuma said, she would be mortified if it had been Kakashi's words which had her only friendly neighbor in such a state. No sooner had she settled herself, and managed to take a few calming breaths did Asuma follow her into the house, his arm clapped over Kakashi's shoulder in some bizarrely close gesture of brotherhood.

"Kurenai, my old friend wouldn't ever say it, but I've grown too loud for his quiet house and I should withdraw myself homewards—and I of course cannot leave you, my lovely, dearest wife here alone in such a reserved and honorably silent household." Sakura noted that it was only Asuma's hands which seemed to have lost their normal finesse due to the sake, his eyes were still sharp, and despite how pink his cheeks were his tongue didn't slur any of his—rather effusive—words. Kakashi seemed mostly unaffected, although his boyish smile plucked at his mouth a little more visibly than normal. Kurenai stood, carefully smoothing her yukata before she bowed to Kakashi and then to Sakura, thanking them for the evening spent in their home.

Kakashi showed them the way out and returned, sitting down just a little slower than he normally did. Sakura had never seen him inebriated, they didn't have the kind of money which would support the regular consumption of sake and Kakashi knew that—which, Sakura suspected, was why he had allowed himself this evening of drinking with Asuma. The sake from Sarutobi-sama wasn't paid for from their precious savings, he could have a small holiday with it for an evening. Her white-haired husband was content in his silent relaxation for only a few minutes, soon standing up and extending a hand to Sakura to help her stand up—he was surprisingly sturdy on his feet despite how long he had been outside drinking with Asuma. He pulled her in close in the way he had gotten into the habit of, and she felt her blush sweeping up her neck to her face—she could feel the way their hips fit together, and he was doing this in front of Tenzou as though he'd quite forgotten his presence, and after her conversation with the brown haired man it was a little embarrassing.

"Sakura, while we were outside Asuma said Kurenai's eyes were the most beautiful to ever open," he paused, a laugh playing at his lips briefly, "He's wrong, you know, he should owe me money because Kurenai's eyes would have to be the color of grass if they were to be the most beautiful to ever open." Sakura bowed her head a little at his compliment, and he pressed his cheek against her hair. He sighed after a long moment, straightening so he could properly order Tenzou around. With the revelation Tenzou had provided her with, Sakura saw their interaction with new eyes—Kakashi was the overly-involved bossy older sibling, definitely.

"Tenzou, see that this is put away properly—and have some of Sarutobi-sama's sake, it will do you good. Now," he tilted his gaze back towards Sakura, remembering something at the last moment. "You and I have to get to bed if we want to pick up that sapling your father arranged to be sent to town—it's a long walk to Fujimi you know."

Although Kakashi fell asleep quickly that evening, curling around her in his sleep, Sakura found rest elusive at first. Tenzou's situation plagued her. He was no ordinary servant, or even an ordinary man—he was an aristocrat's heir, or a prince of the imperial family, and he was here. In Fujimi—a four or five day walk to Tokyo, over a week from there to Kyoto, and Tenzou was here. It was going to be hard to follow his wishes and act as though she still knew nothing, that Tenzou was somehow nothing—she marveled at Kakashi's ability to do so in spite of how close they were to one another-brothers, she could believe that.

It was past midday when they finally finished planting the tree, and Kakashi kept Sakura cuddled next to him on the porch. They were ostensibly examining how the maple tree had changed the mood of the garden, and to be fair Kakashi had noted the changes. It was obviously a newcomer, the ground around its tiny trunk disturbed and tamped down, but it fit somehow with the well-aged garden it found itself in. There was the sense that the tree would grow smoothly into place without disturbing anything.

He was still dressed formally, and he took full advantage of his hakama-clad status by corralling Sakura between his legs, putting his chin on her shoulder with his arms wrapped around her middle. Sakura had blushed prettily as he held her, at first, but after a while had relaxed into his arms. A thrill of happiness surged through him at that, and Kakashi was glad that Tenzou wasn't there to see the stupidly proud grin on his face—and Sakura was facing away from him, so she couldn't see it either. On second thought, she probably knew how he looked, seeing as she could probably feel his grin from where his cheek pressed against her neck.

It was right around when he realized that, that Kakashi also realized another thing. Paradise was tucked into his front pocket, in his kamishimo, stuffed there out of habit—it wasn't unusual for a samurai to carry around a book or print of such a nature when dressed formally for town. But it was unusual was for him to be so close to Sakura—he had her where she couldn't escape—when he had the book with him.

His stupidly proud grin morphed into a devious one. Kakashi unwrapped an arm from around her and reached for his book. He would read her the fairytale, it was the least indelicate of the stories after-all, and the better stories would have to be saved for the future. Paradise was by an unknown artist and writer—their identity kept secret likely because they were a high ranking official or lord, someone who couldn't be seen writing and drawing romances. But not only that, Paradise was special because it was a book of twelve stories, each told over twelve pages—most other shunga books were only twelve pages long. It was by far Kakashi's favorite piece of literature, the writing was superb and the drawings were done so elegantly...

And perhaps it would help break through some of Sakura's shyness with him. She never turned her face away when he kissed her, but she acted like he would pounce on her some nights, while others she would lay down to rest easily with his arms around her. It was getting to be maddening, despite the moniker his father gave him as a child "the little Buddha," to reflect his wells of patience.

With that, Kakashi brought out the book and paged through it on Sakura's lap practically. The first page was just the story, only text and no pictures. Sakura twisted her head around, her face puzzled. Kakashi only smiled and pecked her cheek with a kiss.

"I'm going to read to you, if that's alright." Her eyes, he would never get used to her eyes—he actually hoped they would always surprise him—held his for a moment, trying to suss out why exactly he was choosing now of all times to read to her. He had, after all, promised he would someday.

"Yes, okay." Kakashi grinned and kissed her again before jostling her a little to get her to face forward once again. As the story progressed, her neck slowly flushed red until even her ears were bright with the color. He listened as her breathing changed subtly as the two characters acted out their love but her attention remained rapt, and he realized he wanted to be the reason she reacted like this. He wanted that attention directed towards himself.

Within moments the book was discarded completely and he had her in his arms. He knew she wasn't ready to let him make love to her, one story—even from Paradise—wasn't enough to change that, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold her close and kiss her senseless. He let her know what he wanted, was ready for, with those kisses. Sakura would give herself when she wanted, and he also let her know that.

Tenzou was minding his own business. He had seen Kakashi and Sakura off to town early in the morning, stood watch faithfully at the gate of the house as they disappeared into the distance. And then he'd been about his day. He had checked over the garden in the back—Sakura had done well so far with it, but for so long Sakumo's Garden had been Tenzou's garden that it was hard to believe that Sakura was taking proper care of it. After that was finished he had changed the bathwater in the ofuro and also refilled the cistern they had near the house. After that he got out Kakashi's winter kimono from where they'd been stored and put them into the tansu in the master's room—in short, Tenzou had kept himself occupied while the master and lady of the house were away in town.

When they returned, he helped them plant their darling momiji right where they wanted it—Sakura had brightly told him that they'd agreed on it a year ago, when they'd been engaged. He managed a smile for her at that—she wasn't all that bad, and she was perhaps trying a different tack to get to know him today than she had last night. Namely a more subtle one than the blunt questions she'd had him answer.

But really, he was just minding his own business. It was typically best, he found, especially where Kakashi was concerned. Which was why he had retreated into the house to finish some other chores, leaving Kakashi and Sakura to be alone together. They'd been getting so close to one another in the last few weeks, and while it was a welcome change to the awkward moments in the spring and early summer when Kakashi had to reach a hand out to get Sakura to follow him to their room…it was still nothing that Tenzou wanted to see. Or overhear, or any of it. So he set himself on a few more chores. He was minding his own business, quite happily in the main living area.

And that was when he heard Sakura's nervous giggle followed by a light laugh from Kakashi. The sounds were coming from outside, on the porch—and Tenzou cursed himself for leaving the shoji open. He had thought to let in the last of the warm summer breezes which would be quickly turning into the briskly cool ones of fall and the icy ones of winter, he hadn't even thought that those two would subject him to listening to them flirt. There was no way to close the shoji without alerting them to his presence, to the fact that he had heard them and was horrified to have done so—Kakashi wouldn't've cared, but Sakura would be tightlipped and embarrassed for days, clumsy with her discomfort. He also didn't want to put an end to whatever it was merely because he was uncomfortable. Kakashi needed an heir, and Tenzou highly suspected he knew why his master didn't have one on the way already.

If this supremely unnerving situation would smooth out whatever wrinkle Kakashi and Sakura had, Tenzou was willing to stay silent. He stood up as slowly and silently as he possibly could and then silently padding farther back into the house where hopefully he wouldn't hear any more of their flirting. Or whatever else they were occupying themselves with. His grumbling woke Pakkun, and the half-grown dog blinked at him in puzzlement before settling back down to sleep in the coolness of the dark hallway Tenzou passed through. He wished he had just closed the shoji, he really, really, did.

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